Beneath the pitch-black night sky, a familiar scene played out—one that New Yorkers both loved to watch and had grown used to seeing.
Nighttime belonged to the street racers and joyriders.
The engines of two modified cars roared through the streets of New York. Their powerful speakers blasted deafening, adrenaline-pumping music as the drivers howled wildly inside, swaying to the beat one moment and leaning out the windows the next to hurl shrill taunts at the traffic cops tailing them.
"Headquarters, come in. A group of street racers is heading toward downtown. Set up an interception net. I'm—"
A young traffic cop doggedly pursued the two street racers on his police motorcycle, reporting their route over the radio clipped to his chest.
But halfway through his report, the young cop froze. He slammed on the brakes, bringing his motorcycle to an abrupt stop.
"Hey, 73104, what are you doing? Why'd you stop talking?" a voice asked over the radio.
"I think I'm seeing things. I just saw a streak of yellow light fly past..."
The young cop stared blankly, rubbing his eyes hard.
"Hahahaha! You think that beat-up motorcycle can catch my baby? You're lucky if all you get is a lungful of exhaust!"
Inside one of the modified cars, Tom Cruise laughed wildly. He turned up the car stereo a few more notches, then grabbed the radio and shouted, "Hey, Reed, can you even handle this? You might as well hand over that thousand bucks now!"
"Bullshit! You think I'd lose to you? I'll pass you at the next turn, just you wait! Then you can pay up—or wash your ass and wait for me at home!"
Reed's furious, defiant roar came through the radio.
"Hmph."
Tom Cruise scoffed. The kid wasn't even an amateur, yet he was this arrogant. Tom had only just retired from professional racing; he could beat a guy like this with one hand tied behind his back. He'd only agreed to race because the kid had money. Otherwise, he wouldn't have bothered.
"Looks like I'll have to show this kid what real driving looks like."
Tom Cruise sneered and floored the gas pedal. His car roared even louder, surging forward like a wild horse and leaving the car behind hundreds of yards back in an instant.
"Tom!"
Reed's astonished cry came over the radio, making Tom Cruise even more pleased with himself.
"What, thinking of giving up now? That's fine, but you still owe me every cent of the bet!"
"No, I just saw a streak of yellow light fly past. It was so fast! Might've been a car!"
"Yeah, right. A car moving at the speed of light on these roads? I think you haven't—"
Tom Cruise instinctively mocked Reed for his ignorance, but then he froze.
Light! There really was a light!
His years of racing had trained his reflexes, and he could see it even more clearly than Reed had.
It was a car—a yellow sports car.
And that so-called streak of light was simply the lingering afterimage left behind as the car sped past.
He'd caught only the briefest glimpse out of the corner of his eye, yet he already felt himself falling for it—helplessly captivated by that magnificent machine.
Its sleek, never-before-seen body, its thrilling engine roar, its unmatched speed—it embodied everything that made a sports car irresistible.
"My car isn't that easy to pass!"
His car began accelerating too.
He had to find out where that car was bought—or who had modified it!
Fired up, Tom Cruise summoned the best form he'd ever driven in and raced after it in the car he'd once treasured, but which now felt like a burden.
But reality was cruel.
Usually, other drivers were the ones eating his exhaust. Now he was the one left far behind. Forget catching a whiff of exhaust—the car had vanished from sight. There wasn't even any exhaust left for him to breathe.
Meanwhile, Li Si had no idea he'd just shattered the confidence of two street racers. After speeding around New York in a wide loop, he parked outside Osir Tower, feeling thoroughly satisfied.
"Ugh..."
As soon as the car stopped, Max hurried out and clung to a nearby lamppost, throwing up with abandon.
"Li... I'm never getting in your car again!"
After vomiting for ages, Max's face was deathly pale. He looked at Li Si, sitting in Bumblebee's driver's seat, as if he were some prehistoric monster.
"..."
"It wasn't that fast. Was it really that bad?"
Li Si stared at him speechlessly, then stepped out of the car, refreshed as ever. He led Max into Osir Tower with the confidence of someone who knew the place well.
Once Max had recovered, he looked around in confusion. "Li, what are we doing here?"
"Nothing. Just looking around."
Li Si smiled and pushed open the door to the underground garage. Though it was already nighttime, plenty of players were still inside, their sales pitches ringing out nonstop.
After making out what the players were selling, Max's eyes widened. "This... is this the legendary black market?"
"...Sure, you can think of it that way!"
Li Si didn't know how to explain the players' existence. He opened his mouth, but in the end didn't go into detail.
By then, the players inside had noticed Li Si.
"It's Merchant! Merchant's back!"
"This time, I swear I won't buy his loot boxes. Boycott Merchant! Boycott pay-to-win loot boxes!"
"Right, I won't buy them either. I'd rather save up and buy gear directly than open one of his boxes."
Just seeing that familiar figure brought back the terror of having their pockets drained by Merchant. The players all shouted in indignation.
"Tch, boycott loot boxes? Even if you wanted to open them, I wouldn't sell them to you. A bunch of paupers with less in their pockets than a face has skin!"
Li Si curled his lip scornfully and ignored the protesting players.
"Li, did you sell them fakes? Why do they all call you Merchant?"
Max looked around curiously, like a country girl visiting the city for the first time.
"...No!"
Li Si's face twitched awkwardly. He quickly pointed at the items on the players' stalls to distract Max.
Before you continue